


Wells

by blueberryfallout



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: M/M, again nothing scary just fluff, more fear toxin because that's who i am as a person, my sons being cute together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 18:51:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7280569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueberryfallout/pseuds/blueberryfallout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i guess i'm not in a long story writing mood cause i'm writing a jason story rn that's already over 5000 words which is a lot for me anyway enjoy i hope :)</p></blockquote>





	Wells

The Replacement’s been drugged, Jason gathers from Dick’s frantic call over the comms, and Jason’s closest to his last known location. 

“Robin’s heartbeat is speeding up,” Barb says, clipped, always at her most calm when things are going to shit. Jason jumps from a rooftop, ignoring the sharp pain in his knees; there’s a flash of green and red two roofs over. After a frankly dangerous grapple and fall, he thuds down next to Tim.

He’s curled up, breathing heavy. There’s a greenish tinge to his skin that Jason isn’t liking. “Tim?” 

“I’m _sorry_ ,” Tim moans, folding into himself. When he rolls over Jason can see the yellow syringe next to his thigh. Fucking Scarecrow. 

“Hey, no, we all get pricked eventually,” he soothes. 

“I’m not worthy, I don’t…” Tim makes an awful choked noise as Jason kneels next to him, checking for wounds. Nothing major, scrapes and bruises, Tim’s skin clammy under his fingertips. It’s pale, but Tim’s white. He always looks pale to Jason.  
“I don’t deserve to be Robin, I’m not good enough,” Tim mutters, miserable, tugging at his gloves. Without them his hands are strangely vulnerable, long-fingered and boney, nails clipped short. “Bruce doesn’t want me, nobody wants me. This doesn’t belong to _me_.” 

Jason’s struck dumb; even when he hated Tim he never thought he was _unworthy_ or some shit. Tim works hard and hits harder, takes hours even Bruce considers crazy and refuses to take time off for injuries. Jason’s starting to get why and it makes his heart ache. 

It takes some maneuvering to slip an arm around Tim’s thin shoulders, bolstered by the armor, and pull him close. “Whoa, baby bird. I’ve got you,” he murmurs into Tim’s hair, sweaty, smelling like skin and the glue they use to keep their masks on. “Oracle, I’ll need an antidote for Scarecrow’s toxin,” he murmurs over the comms.  
Tim’s whimpering now, his eyes moving behind the mask but not seeing anything that’s really there. “It’s just Scarecrow’s bullshit, _amorcito_ ," he says, wincing when he realizes Barbara heard what he just said. “Uh, I mean, Tim. Listen to me.” Tim looks up, bleary. His bottom lip is trembling, only a little. No one else would notice, because no one else is obsessed with Tim’s mouth like Jason is.  
“All that stuff in your head right now is bullshit. You’re the best of us and everyone knows it.” Jason knows it, anyway. He watches Tim from the rooftops and pretends he wouldn’t follow at his heels like a dog if Tim would let him. “You can work through the toxin. If fucking Bruce can get past it, you can, too.” 

Tim shakes his head once, shuddering, then goes still. There’s a very tense few moments as Jason watches the sweat cool on his skin. “Jay?” 

Jason used to punch people who called him Jay. It’s a name for a little boy who’s dead now. He doesn’t mind when it’s Tim, though. He lets Tim get away with a lot. “Yeah. Hey.”

Tim groans, rolling to his knees, away from Jason’s arms. “Did you…did you get me out of that?” 

“Knocked some sense into you, yeah.” 

Tim smiles, seeing right through him. “”Thanks.” He slides his gloves back on and stands unsteadily, reaching for Jason’s arm when he wobbles. 

“I could, uh, take you home,” Jason offers, sneaking a quick look at Tim’s smirk out of the corner of his eye.

“I guess I could use an escort.” Grinning, Tim steps over the edge of the roof, like he wasn’t just crying from terror a few minutes ago. And people think Jason has a death wish. He follows anyway, because that’s what he always does. The smile Tim throws over his shoulder as they vault from rooftop to rooftop makes everything worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> i guess i'm not in a long story writing mood cause i'm writing a jason story rn that's already over 5000 words which is a lot for me anyway enjoy i hope :)


End file.
